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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656309">Salad Days</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Of_The_Valley23/pseuds/Lily_Of_The_Valley23'>Lily_Of_The_Valley23</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shugo Chara!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Drinking, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Problems, Rare Pairings, Smoking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:00:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,325</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656309</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Of_The_Valley23/pseuds/Lily_Of_The_Valley23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Amu and Utau are just two colleagues on the grind, working to see the sun rise again.<br/>They're not really that close. Amu hasn't told her about all the shit she's gone through these past few months.<br/>Nor should she; Utau is crazy. Although, well, one night couldn't hurt, surely?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hoshina Utau/Hinamori Amu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Salad Days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘Got two sixes, a twelve and a fifteen at table three!’</p><p>‘Another two tens, all day, stat!’</p><p>‘Hinamori! Just how buried are you?!’</p><p> </p><p>Utau’s shrill tone drew Amu out of her haze of panic. Unfortunately, Utau had correctly assumed that Amu was in way over her head. The receipts were starting to pile up; a tower of thin papers stained with grease kept growing, taunting her in the process.</p><p>Servers sped by her station in a blur of white, black and red. Plates passed from the kitchen, to tables in the front of the house, and back again. Seamlessly they floated along among a set path. Their carriers were like acrobats; shifting to and fro like the thrashing of the waves.</p><p>The cooks moved differently. Actions were stressed and strained, because their brain power was constantly dedicated to fitting a new item into their never-ending to-do list. Most important of all qualities was adaptability. The old woman that Amu worked with constantly changed course without so much as a complaint; Amu could barely handle making two dishes.</p><p> </p><p>All the while Utau still leveled a murderous glare at Amu. At last, when Amu could still not think of a dignified response, Utau crossed the batwing doors to join Amu in the kitchen.</p><p>In one movement, she yanked an apron of the peg by the door, put it on, and pulled out a cutting board and a knife.</p><p> </p><p>‘What do you need me to do?’ Utau asked.</p><p> </p><p>‘Cut this fish.’ Amu pointed at a salmon that was still in its wrapper.</p><p> </p><p>As a result of Utau’s furious cutting, Amu finally had time to plate a few dishes. A weight fell off her shoulder when she put them in the window, and rang the bell. Another server came up and took the dishes to their destination.</p><p>However, the end was not yet visible, it was far, far beyond the horizon.</p><p>The moment Amu was finally out of the weeds, Utau tossed the apron aside and went back to hosting. Luckily, she had saved Amu’s hide. Rush hour had passed, and Amu could breathe easily.</p><p> </p><p>Next were the desserts. The making of which was considerably simpler than the main courses. With enough added sugar, people tended to forget that they were devoid of any other flavour.</p><p>The campers, guests that wouldn’t take a hint and stayed hours after they had already finished their meal, Amu didn’t really have to deal with. The servers made sure they kept drinking, so it would still be good business. Nevertheless, the boss expected everyone to stay until closing time, including the kitchen staff. ‘Plenty of time for thorough cleaning’ and all that jazz.</p><p> </p><p>After Amu had carefully plopped the last strawberry on a chocolate bombe glacée, she exchanged her knives for paper wipes in order to de-grease the kitchen.</p><p>A thick layer had formed around the gas-stove. It was truly astounding how much dirt managed to form in a single night. As Amu took another clean wipe over the counter, it came back stained yellow and black with oil, but the counter was relieved of its dull layer and shiny once more.</p><p>It was almost therapeutic to repeat the same motion over and over. They always followed the same strict routine, in order to get the kitchen as clean as possible. The empty packet of wipes found the trash bin, and Amu set to filling a bucket with hot water and alkaline powder. Whilst Amu scrubbed away at the counters, the old woman sat on a chair in the corner nursing a cup of sake.</p><p> </p><p>At this point, Utau stormed in again.</p><p>‘Oh good, you’re almost done. Come help clean up in the front after, okay?’</p><p>‘Sure.’</p><p> </p><p>Although it was impractical at times to have a small kitchen, it was a damn near godsend during clean-up. Sweeping and mopping was done in a flash. All the dirty water was neatly sucked away by the drain.</p><p>Beyond the kitchen, an army of servers worked like bees to put the shine back on every table. An array of filthy survetties, discarded plastic, spilled liquid and food waste littered the place. </p><p>It took hours to get the restaurant back into a shape, every single night. Regardless, altering the atmosphere from relaxed to more rigid would surely cost them customers. After all, the cleaning costs weren’t significant compared to the amount of money made selling booze.</p><p> </p><p>Trashy enka music blared from an old-fashioned stereo player. In the middle of the floor, Utau danced with a mop in her hand, and sang along. The moment she spotted Amu, she laughed and slung her arm around Amu’s shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>‘What do you think, Hinamori? Should I quit my day job?’</p><p> </p><p>A few of the girls laughed at that. Amu laughed along awkwardly, not knowing whether she should lie or answer honestly.</p><p> </p><p>‘You know what, don’t say anything. I’m a star. Take this mop, I’m going to ring up the register.’</p><p> </p><p>Before long, the dust and dirt had been absorbed by the many mops that went over the wooden floor, and it looked clean enough to waltz on.</p><p>Just like an audience at the end of a concert, they all collected by the back door. Utau’s return spelled the end of a long night. After the girls had filed out, Utau closed the numerous locks. </p><p>Light rain drizzled down the ceramic roof tiles and fell down in streams onto the concrete street. Illuminated by the flickering light of a street lantern, Utau lit a cigarette whilst the other girls departed one by one. The old woman had left hours ago.</p><p> </p><p>‘Want one?’</p><p> </p><p>Amu nodded her head in agreement. Utau leaned over to light it for her, and Amu felt the blond hair of Utau’s ponytail brush her ears ever so slightly.</p><p>No longer accustomed to the burn of tobacco in her throat, Amu coughed the first drag away. She didn’t smoke with as much fervor as Utau did, who spent at least one tenth of her income on smokes.</p><p>In spite of herself, Amu accepted the second one too, and ten minutes turned into half an hour.</p><p> </p><p>‘Looks like it’s not clearing up soon.’ Utau said, stating the obvious. ‘You got any place to be tomorrow morning?’</p><p> </p><p>‘No, and not for the rest of the day either.’</p><p> </p><p>‘How do you feel about going somewhere to get wasted?’</p><p> </p><p>It was a tempting offer. Drowning troubles in a bottle of liquor was the best way to forget them. Nevertheless, Amu rationally knew that going on a bender with Utau would solve nothing. If anything it would make things worse.</p><p> </p><p>‘I’m down for a drink, but I’m not getting hammered. I’m not going anywhere, but I got some stuff to do.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Sure.’</p><p> </p><p>Evidently, Utau already had a bar in mind as she turned on her heel. The city was mostly asleep during this time. However, some holes in the wall stayed open at ungodly hours. Amu could only imagine having to work a joint like that.</p><p>The bright sign of a conbini drew Amu’s attention. It was the flame to her moth. She tugged on Utau’s elbow to get her attention. </p><p> </p><p>‘What about a beer?’ Amu pointed at the beacon that lit up half of the street.</p><p> </p><p>‘Sounds good to me.’</p><p> </p><p>They crossed the road and entered the store. It was as luminous as the sign outside; for all one could tell it might as well be daytime. A single employee that manned the counter greeted them, but Utau paid her little attention. Instead, she made a bee-line for the alcohol aisle.</p><p>At the till, Amu pulled some coins out of her pocket, however, Utau stopped her.</p><p> </p><p>‘This one is on the house.’</p><p> </p><p>Whether or not passersby stared at them, neither of them really cared. Amu, in any case, wasn’t keen to sit on the rain, so the steps under the overhang of the shop were good enough for her.</p><p>Cars drove by on the road in front of them. The rain water in the gutter splattered around with the passing of each vehicle, occasionally claiming an unlucky victim.</p><p>Years ago, the beer Utau had chosen might have really done a number on Amu. Now she’d built up a tolerance, regrettably, because of regular use. Although it was bitter, it distracted her from all the other matters she’d rather not think about.</p><p> </p><p>‘Did you know I actually had a gig planned for tomorrow?’ Utau said in between swigs of her drink.</p><p> </p><p>‘Yeah?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Turns out some big shot on tour needed a venue, and they booted me right out of the line-up.’</p><p> </p><p>‘I’m sorry.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Don’t be. Let’s not get soppy tonight.’</p><p> </p><p>‘There’s no use in crying over spilt milk, I guess.’</p><p>Utau inclined her head slightly after hearing those words; like Amu had flipped a switch in her mind. Nevertheless, instead of engaging in conversation, she turned her head to look at a motorcycle that took a sharp turn. Silence reigned, which was fine with Amu. Their aquintance was not one of tears and pretense, but one of cigarettes and honesty.</p><p> </p><p>‘Speaking of spilt milk… Why did you take the kitchen job, Hinamori?’</p><p>Utau’s sentiments came out of left field. Out of all the possibilities, Amu hadn’t counted on being brought out all the way that night to get fired.</p><p> </p><p>‘Hey, I had one bad night-’</p><p> </p><p>‘It’s not about that.’ Utau waved Amu’s concerns away. ‘I remember how you used to look. Serving, I mean. The way you smiled at people; that was real. Not everyone is like that, you know. They just plaster it on for the job. But now… I can tell that you hate it. Every minute in there.’</p><p> </p><p>Amu’s heart rate tripled, and she felt a pressure on her chest. On the contrary to her usual antics, Utau met Amu’s gaze steadily. Almost as if Utau was looking for clues in her face. Longer than Amu cared to remember, she hadn’t had a talk with anyone about her well-being. In the face of greater suffering, that was no longer her priority.</p><p>Rather than letting it hang in the air, Utau scooted closer to Amu and put an arm around her waist.</p><p> </p><p>‘Forget it… I just said I didn’t want to get soppy.’ She whispered, and then put her head on Amu’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>All in all, Amu mused that night hadn’t turned out all that bad. Even after she’d dismissed it, Amu continued to wonder if she owed Utau an answer. Perhaps she wanted to talk, and that was why she couldn’t stop thinking about it.</p><p> </p><p>‘No... it’s okay.’ </p><p> </p><p>Although it was a delayed response, Utau wasn’t any worse for it.</p><p> </p><p>‘It’s the salary.’ Amu admitted. ‘Money is tight right now. I don’t think I could live in the city on a server’s pay, even with tips.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Huh. I never noticed.’</p><p> </p><p>‘When I was serving, I still had some savings. The guy I was seeing stole it all from me. My parents never liked him, and they say I should fend for myself.’</p><p>‘Aren’t you a student? How can you manage to pay rent and tuition?’</p><p> </p><p>Ashamed, Amu looked away again. She wasn’t used to Utau being so inquisitive.</p><p> </p><p>‘You’ve taken out a loan then.’</p><p> </p><p>Without speaking, Amu bent her head to confirm Utau’s suspicion. A soul-weary sigh came from deep within, and Utau gripped her tighter. </p><p> </p><p>‘Fuck, Hinamori.’</p><p> </p><p>‘It’s not so bad.’ Amu replied, but she squeezed Utau back. ‘I’ll pay it all back some day.’</p><p> </p><p>‘You will. We’ll make sure you keep your job. Just don’t burn the salmon anymore.’</p><p> </p><p>‘I burned a-...’Utau’s smile said it all. Then Utau started to laugh in earnest. In mock-anger, Amu pushed her away, regardless, Utau grabbed her by her elbow. The cars rushing by faded to the background, and Amu only heard the slow descent of rain.</p><p> </p><p>In spite of the cramped space they worked in, they had never been so close. The long, wispy hairs of Utau’s fringe brushed against Amu’s own forehead. A smell of alcohol was apparent when Utau breathed in slowly. One of Utau’s feet was dangling off a cliff, nevertheless, she was unwilling to throw herself over the threshold. That was more than apparent to Amu, especially so when Utau raised her eyebrows daringly. </p><p>Although she acted more crazy and silly than anyone else Amu knew, she’d never cross her own boundaries. Sometimes at the expense of others, she’d play a cat and mouse until she grew bored of it. Be that as it may, Utau wasn’t the only one that had been drinking that night.  </p><p>A small, mischievous smile started to form around Utau’s lips. She was pleased with a well executed prank. Slowly she pulled away.</p><p>Amu didn’t know what came over her. Maybe it was the stress. Yes, surely it had been the stress. Cooking lit a fire in her, regardless, it was not the pleasant kind. It ate away at her the whole shift, until she felt drained at the end of it. Now the fire burnt again, but it was different this time. It set her nerves aflame, and she felt a heat in the pit of her stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Her feelings were completely different, that much was obvious. There was an edge of desperation to it.</p><p>Amu pulled on Utau’s arm, and pressed her lips’ to Utaus’. One brief moment, Utau froze, and Amu worried she had horribly misread the situation. Soon after, however, Utau responded. She backed Amu against the wall, and kissed her back ardently.</p><p> </p><p>The force of Utau’s body against hers was intoxicating. Sorrow was evident in Utau’s urgent manner. In the same vein as Amu, she felt alone, and grabbed on to the life-line that Amu had thrown out.</p><p>Utau’s lips wandered to Amu’s throat. Too late, Amu covered her mouth to stop a moan from escaping. Utau briefly smiled, and then pulled on Amu’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>‘How do you feel about spending the night in my apartment, Hinamori?’</p>
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